


The Return

by MissEmmanuelle



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Endgame Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, F/M, Horny Jon Snow, Jon and Sansa have a connection, Jon steals into her chambers, Sansa Stark is Queen in the North, for a jonsa event, heat under the sheets, jonsa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:42:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24508606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissEmmanuelle/pseuds/MissEmmanuelle
Summary: One shot: Jon returns to where he truly belonged.Following a bit of canon verse, post S6 reunion by the fire, and scenes behind closed doors after Sansa's coronation.Rated M for language. *bows, from yours truly*
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Kudos: 62
Collections: Queen Sansa Jonsa Event





	The Return

**Author's Note:**

> I tried though I still cannot write/read canon verse fics because S8 was traumatically bad, I’m still grieving. Only great thing out of it was Queen Sansa and Northern Independence. Consider this a small fix it closure. :-/ 
> 
> Sorry, readers who are asking me update of fics in canon-verse, that might take a while. I'm still recovering from how bad S8 was and not sure if I ever will. Let's see.

_Jon.._

The wind chill remained deep in her bones. The leather of her makeshift cloak that draped across her chest callous and taut in her grip. She hears the cry of a wolf not far behind. Her legs, somehow still her own, plod heavily in the snow.

_The true north.. The wildlands.._

Jon had spoken of this place many times. How it was vast and cold, beautiful and free.

_Come back. Come back to me. Come home._

As if the winds had heard her, it howled in response. Sansa hears howling and laughter, then came the screams. Screams that were familiar, she had heard them before. Screams that mirrored her own.

“Your Grace!”

Sansa gasped for air desperately, fearing it was her last. Beads of sweat pooled on her forehead as Sansa sat up from under the covers. The guards had burst through the door, faces fraught with concern and searched the room immediately.

“Are you all right, Your Grace? We heard.. screaming,”

The screams were hers, after all.

“I.. I am all right. A bad dream, is all.”

The guards looked at one another and retreated. “Shall I… call for the Maester?”

Sansa shook her head. It was another nightmare, just like the last, and no potion strong enough could make them go away.

_They always return._

“No, no one is to bother the Maester. I will see him tomorrow morning. Please.. as you were.”

It all seemed so real. She was there, feeling the dampness sticking to her skin, soaked through her worn boots. The scent of snow, sharp and crisp, still deep in her lungs. _The mind has a strange way of coping with pain_ , Bran once told her. _I know why._ Why she kept returning to those lands in her dreams.There was only one reason and it was because she wanted to look for him. _To bring him back._

* * *

_Jon_..

Sansa laid down again. A bad dream. That was all. She sighed, raising her left hand again and stared. Sansa's eyes fluttered close once more, as her fingers brushed against the raised sliver of skin, tender as if it was still healing. It was a day she would always remember. _How could I forget._

_“What happened? Are you hurt?” Sansa heard the door close from behind her._

_Sansa placed a new bandage as another had soaked through. “Nothing. Just an old wound. Pay no mind to it. Although, could I have some water to wash?”_

_The splashing of water comforted her. As the footsteps that slowly approached. She was safe, finally. No one would hurt her here, for now._

_“Here, let me take a look at it.” Jon's hands were warm as he reached out for hers. The tightening of his jaw tensed his grip._

_“Did he.. did he do this?”_

_Sansa watched as Jon lightly ran his fingers along the scar. It was a deep wound and the slightest touch still burned, but the pain was nothing, remembering how she had endured far worse._

_“No. From a piece of wood. In the river, when I..”_

_When I escaped. Ran as far as my legs could carry me through the woods past Winterfell. When Theon led me to the river.. where we decided we deserved better._

_The pause was enough. Jon clasped her hands in his and with his other hand, seized a dagger from his side. Sansa watched on, curious and dazed but realised the moment he let go._

_“Jon.. wait.. what are you doing?”_

_A grunt and a gasp as dark drops of blood dripped onto the floor, Sansa's hand was now wet with blood. Jon had her bandage removed and placed the bloodied hand over her own._

_“Now, we both have scars. You... You're not alone.”_

_Sansa stared at their hands as their bloods mingled._

_“Jon.. why would you do such a thing?”_

_Stunned, Sansa flinched slightly as he squeezed his grip and turned to her. His eyes were dark even against the brightness of the fire._

_“You're here now.. and you're real. This will be ours to remember. Right now at this moment, that you've come here. To Castle Black. To me.”_

_Relief washed over him, especially now seeing his own blood, warm and wet. He was still bleeding, like before. He was still living, flesh and blood indeed._

_“And you're right.”_

_Sansa's eyes finally met his, their hands still joined_.

_“About what?”_

_A deep sigh left his body, feeling the weight he had been carrying become heavier._

_“We're taking back Winterfell. We're taking back our home.”_

_Jon…_

The crackling of the fire was soothing to his ears but it wasn't enough. It failed along with the collective white noise of snoring and grunting of the wildlings he had grown used to. As well as Tormund's boisterous laughter and off key singing every once in while whenever they made camp. He hadn't slept for days and tonight in particular.

_Sansa…_

Jon rubbed his eyes, coaxing them to slumber - but a rough patch of skin brushed against his face, sending a tingle down his spine.

 _Sansa_.

The mark was permanent, it had been years now and still it stood out, as the day he made it. It was still soft to the touch, a deep gash line now held together by new skin.

He often thought of her, of Winterfell. He missed his home and he missed her especially. He had left her one too many times and this time for good albeit against his will. He only wished her well and happy that she was home finally, safe and ruling in her rightful place.

_“Winterfell belongs to my sister, Sansa.”_

He had said that once, to someone and meant every word.

 _Cousin Sansa. Ruling in the North. The best one yet._ Winterfell was Sansa’s heart and soul and there was no one better than her to look after it.

_Come back. Come back to me. Come home._

Jon blinked. He hears her, her voice a faint whisper as if she was sat next to him. He wanted to, with every fibre of his being. Winterfell was still home, even though he had lived many years away from it. And tonight, the need to return home was something he could no longer ignore, try as he might.

“The Queen in the North! The Queen in North! The Queen in the North!”

The chants were deafening as Sansa looked on around the hall. These were her people. People who loved the North as much as she did and fought for it. How could she not look after them? Father and Robb would've done the same.

The crown had rested heavy on her head. It was forged with care, with love and fealty from those who mattered. Sansa stared at the carved precious metal now in its place, sat on a pillow in front of her, resting for the night.

The moments replayed in her mind again. All of the North were gathered for her, to welcome their new Queen, of a free and independent kingdom. All but one. One she missed dearly, one whom she wanted so badly to be in the hall, seated by her side.

It was her wish to rule Winterfell together. As King he once was and her as Queen. She would not be here if it wasn't for him. The void in her grew stronger as the day went on.

_“She's the best they could ever ask for.”_

A flood of tears came over her without warning. Sansa clung on to her vanity for support.

“Oh.. Jon. Jon...”

Body wracked with sobs, Sansa peeled off her robe and crept under the furs for the night. Loud cheers and singing could still be heard down below, celebrating the North's freedom from the Seven Kingdoms.

She had truly done it. Truly free after centuries, no more heeding the call of any kingdoms, they were their own sovereign.

Sansa inhaled deeply as she blew out the last candle and shut her eyes. She would attempt to sleep once more. This time in peace.

_Jon.. come back. Come back home._

A small creak. Sansa turned and thought she saw the door rattle in the dark. A silence followed and Sansa turned back again towards the window.

 _Drunk guards, maybe._ Perhaps the ones she had released from their duties that night. They refused at first but it was an order from their new Queen that they dared not defy. _There is no need for guards tonight_ , she was safe. This was Winterfell, her own Winterfell now. _No one would dare_. _I’m their Queen now_.

“Shhh..”

A hand clasped over her mouth. 

_No. Oh Gods. No._

Sansa screamed. But only a muffled whimper escaped as the warm palm covered her face. All of the horrors that she once encountered, flashed before her very eyes. Sansa gasped for breath as she tried to scream once more.

_But.. That scent.._

It was all too familiar.

“Sansa.. shh. It's me.”

Sansa squirmed as another hand snaked around her back, enveloping her. The hold wasn't a firm one but tight enough that made her realise that somehow, she'd felt this before.

“Jon..?”

Sansa clawed aimlessly in the dark. Her hands finally found their bearings on a furry cloak, heavy and thick and as she went further up, Sansa could feel her heart almost burst.

 _The curls_. Unmistakable. Soft ringlets filled her hands as she brushed against them and without a second to waste, hauled the body towards her.

“Jon...?”

A hand softened its grip and gently stroked her hair in the dark. 

“Sansa.. it’s me.”

 _Jon. He came back_. Sansa pulled him closer again, tightly as she could against her barely clothed body.

“Jon.. I.. I called for you. Did you hear me?”

Jon took a deep breath, drinking in her scent as he held on tightly. 

“You did. I heard you.”

Warmth pooled at her neck, feeling his face nuzzling her skin. Sansa turned around, her hands still clinging onto fistfuls of his curls. 

“Let me see you.. Your Grace.”

Sansa did not want to let go but she needed to see him. Look and touch him, that this wasn’t all a dream. Leaping out of her bed, Sansa scrambled to light the nearest candle she could get her hands on.

And there he was. Standing right before her, in all his black leathered glory. Wearing the cloak she made him. He looked every bit like how she remembered him, as the day they said their goodbyes.

“Jon.. it really is you..”

Jon smiled, the pouty sad smile he was so good at and once more, Sansa fought back her tears.

Jon went on his knees and bowed his head. “Your Grace, pardon my absence on your coronation day. Will you forgive me?”

Sansa nudged him gently to rise. “There is nothing to forgive.”

Their eyes finally meet and it was a moment Sansa would treasure till the end. Though the chill filling the chambers was getting too cold to ignore once Sansa realised she was only in her nightclothes.

“Jon... you.. look the same. A little ragged perhaps.” _How comforting, that nothing much has changed._

Jon smiled as he sighed _. She was beautiful. More now than ever. And her hair, radiant still._

“Come here and sit with me. Tell me, how you've been? Are you well?” Sansa asked quietly as she led him back to the warmth of her bed.

“Aye, as well as I can be. Nothing's changed in Castle Black. Ale's still shite,” Jon chuckled, still holding fast onto Sansa's arm. His eyes stayed on hers, taking in every second at how they beamed beautifully with joy. Though for a second, they wandered further below as the small but bright light caught onto every curve of Sansa's. He hadn't seen her like this before and it embarrassed him - chastising himself for stealing into her chambers in the dark of night like a fiend. But there could be no decree, no law that would stop him from seeing Sansa. _Not tonight._

Her special day. One for the history books. He had it in him well enough how he wasn’t supposed to be here. Banished into exile meant everywhere else, even the North. No one could know he was here, except Sansa. She called him to her, in the first place and he heard her. He needed to be near her. A need so strong, he'd risk his life. She was worth it all.

“I wanted you here. Oh I wanted you here so much.. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Sansa. I had to come.. and see you.”

“You did.” It was a joy Sansa could not contain, seeing Jon here in the flesh, though she could hardly believe it. _Don’t be a dream.. please._

“Are you real? Are you really here? I've had so many nightmares lately… I just-”

Jon pulled her closer again once more, this time their faces almost touching, his hand cupping her face gently.

“It _is_ me. This isn't a dream. I am here. And so are you.”

She had to know. Sansa needed it to be real. _I have to.._

“Jon..”

His lips were soft and warm. His tongue slick and welcoming as she pressed her open mouth on his. _He is real…_

“Sansa... You.. must-”

She wanted more. _Yes, I must._ Sansa's hands grabbed onto the straps of his cloak and coaxed his hands to her bosom, heaving as her mouth hungrily drank from his.

The small flame flickered as Sansa helped Jon remove his furs. The doublet was next.

Hearts racing, Sansa and Jon locked their gaze onto one another, both knowing already what will come next - ready to dive in head first into this debauchery.

Sansa tugged at the laces that held her nightclothes together. It did not take half a second for it fall off her shoulders, leaving her bare before him.

Taking off his under clothes in response, Jon sucked in a breath as they both faced each other, naked and wanting. Missing each other was too light a term, it was more of a deep, low burning desire that had grown more and more with each passing day of being apart.

“Sansa...”

Sansa reached out for Jon to come closer. “Jon... Hold me.”

Butterfly kisses peppered her shoulder. Slowly, Jon went lower and Sansa closed her eyes, committing to memory every touch lavished on her.

Sansa let out a small whimper as his lips nibbled on her belly. 

“Jon..”

His hands crawling up as his head lowered, grabbing a handful of her breasts, feeling Sansa quake from every graze of his fingertips.

“I need you..”

She hissed as Jon finally reached her spot, moist and waiting.

“Then.. have me,” Sansa whispered as Jon's fingers squeezed the insides of her thigh. _So close._

Jon kissed and nipped at the ripe heat of her flesh, his fingers parting the tender folds of a place he never thought he'd be.

Another hiss and a soft groan. Soft, long legs gently closing in around his head as his mouth greedily laps up bits of her.

She tasted heavenly. Warm, wet and inviting. He would take his time, devouring her bit by bit, inch by inch till every part of her body was etched into the very depths of his soul. His teeth pulled and nipped, his tongue delving deep in and out of her folds, how he could go on forever.

How he wanted to take her. This could be his last day on this wretched earth and he would not change a single thing.

“Unnhh... Jon..”

Sansa bit down on the back of her hand, struggling to keep her cries down. Jon groaned, his hardness growing as Sansa quivered in his hands, writhing in his arms as the sharp volts of pleasure shocked her body.

Yes, this was exactly why he wanted to come home. They had taken far too long for both of them to get here but the wait has made it all the sweeter.

Jon crept up to Sansa, desperate to see her face once again, to watch her as he takes her, finally.

Sansa sighed as Jon's hard flesh rubbed against her bare thighs and rested precariously between her thighs. Her dripping entrance in wait of an embrace, a long awaited reunion she yearned for. _It was time._

The pain of desire proved too excruciating.

_Take me. Take me now._

“I've returned home for you, Sansa,” Jon whispered, his eyes focused and unblinking. Sansa could only nod. No words were needed.

“And now.... now I'm going to fuck you till kingdom come.”

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to use the line " Fuck you till kingdom come.." hahaha
> 
> Can you imagine it in Kit's low raspy voice.. whew... *fans self


End file.
